Illusions of Peace
by Lucia.Shepard
Summary: In war, she never questioned her purpose. Win. Protect. Save. She did her duty. Sacrificed her very body to save countless lives. Now a broken shell of the Shepard must struggle with this peace... to find a purpose in a world that she has pushed everybody out of. But what if she can't?
1. Prologue: It is Finished

_Story Disclaimer: I do not own nor am I affiliated with Bioware or EA. This is a not for profit story inspired by the Mass Effect game trilogy which takes place after the events of Mass Effect 3._

_Story Rating: Mature for language, violence, and adult content matter._

**Prologue: It is Finished**

Get up, Bailey! Get up!

He could hear another groan of the metal around him, closing his eyes. So much had happened already. The building had come crashing around him. There'd been no time... All he remembered was the sirens, the call for an evacuation. C-Sec had mobilized, attempting to fill the shuttles, first getting the council members evacuated, and then focusing on the high ranking diplomats... But after a few minutes, it all went to Hell. All the training, everything they'd prepared for... it had not readied them for this. The order came from him... Put as many civilians as they could onto the shuttles and get them out of there. Save as many people as they could. They'd had maybe twenty minutes after that... He was making sure the building had been evacuated.

Next thing he knew he was waking up to darkness. He was pretty sure he wasn't dead... Being dead surely couldn't hurt this much. He moved slowly, trying to get to his feet, but aside from the pain which had made the wound he'd suffered before feel like a papercut, he couldn't stand fully erect without his shoulders and head hitting something solid. He realized only seconds later that he was trapped, buried in the stairwell... He wasn't sure how high up he was, but he knew that he had been lucky... Well... lucky so far. But more sounds made the building shake, he could hear falling debris above and below him.

He had to activate his omnitool just to get some light. He immediately wished he hadn't done that. He had seen dead bodies before but... to see one of his own men, a Turian, half of his body crushed beneath a large slab of concrete, his eyes looking straight up but seeing nothing... Bailey closed his eyes and cursed to himself. It... it looked like the only way out. He never stopped cursing as he walked towards him, his foot bracing on the sloped surface, crawling to the floor above literally on the back of somebody else...

Pushing himself to his feet, he struggled to take the scene in. The window in front of him had been blown out, but it let him see outside... The Citadel. The arms closed up... A red, foreboding hue cast over the entire thing. And the smell of death. It was overwhelming and he started to choke on it, coughing and doubling over, his stomach twisting until whatever was in his stomach emptied onto the floor. He wiped his mouth and staggered forward, cradling one arm in front of him, the other going to the gun at his side, pulling it out because he had no idea what he was going to face. His boot kicked a bit of the glass still at the bottom of the window and he stepped over and out onto the ledge. About a three story drop... Not too bad, but it wasn't exactly going to be pleasant if he fell either.

There was a fire escape, if he remembered correctly... a ladder that led down... But he would have to scale the side of the building. Fifteen feet... He could see it... He set his gun back in its holster and steadied himself against the building, shuffling his already unsteady feet to the side, slowly. There was no rush. If the Citadel exploded, there wasn't really much he could do about it. All he could do was hope that it wouldn't... Hope that soon the Alliance or the Turian fleet would arrive and start looking for survivors... That is if the Reapers hadn't killed them off yet. Maybe it would have been better to have died when the building collapsed. At least then he wouldn't have to wait to be harvested. Whatever that meant.

His hand clasped around the metal of the ladder, and he held onto it like a lifeline because... it really was. He swung one foot to it, then the other, trying to figure out how he was going to do this with one arm. Slowly was the answer. It was always the answer. He had to put his arm around to hold the rungs as he stepped down, moving at a snail's pace. He'd seen Volus climb down ladders faster than this. But... not much further to go... Maybe about twelve feet... Which would have been a wonderful fact to take in if not for the fact that the ladder had broken and he was in no condition to attempt to drop the rest of the way. If he could just get his foot onto the ledge of the second floor, maybe he could find a way down inside. He readjusted his grip and moved to the edge.

The explosion came from behind him. Loud enough that it caused a ringing in his ears, close enough that he could feel the heat on his back, and big enough that the shockwave slammed him against the building, his head hitting one of the rungs. He lost consciousness in the next breath, his hand going slack, falling backward towards the ground and hitting with a sickening thud.

He woke with a groan... His chest tight, feeling as if it might be about to explode. His breaths were ragged. Wheezing... And when he tried to move... the pain was paralyzing. So he just laid where he was for a while. How long had he been out? It looked as if part of the Citadel had been blown to pieces... When he'd been climbing down, he remembered not being able to see the sky and now he was staring straight up at it... Only he could see the Earth. That... wasn't right.

He had to talk himself into moving again, almost whimpering at the pain, but he managed to get to his feet, staggering as he attempted to find a center of balance, but he gave up on that. He turned, remembering the heat on his back and figuring the explosion had come from where the Towers had once been. He started in that direction, coming across more bodies along the way... And a Keeper... A Keeper who appeared to be behaving normally, plugging away on a console like it wasn't standing on a heap of corpses. It was too eerie to contemplate or digest, so he moved passed it, dragging his leg behind him.

The walk should not have been a long one. But with how he moved... He considered trying to see if one of the rapid transit cars still worked, but for whatever reason, perhaps just stubborn determination, he kept walking, coming to a stop only when he reached the bottom of the pile of rubble, singed black from the explosion. He gritted his teeth and started to scale it, wondering what it was that compelled him to reach the top. He should have stayed where he was. Should have tried to use his omnitool to call for help... If anybody was left. He really needed to stop having that thought.

By the time he reached the top, he was quite literally out of breath, heaving and feeling like his lungs just might collapse from the strain he'd just put on them. He fell to his good knee, wincing when it hit something hard but it was better than standing at least. He was content to just lay here. To wait. If this was real... If this wasn't hell and he was really dead... then by the looks of it, Earth was still standing. Maybe there would be help coming soon after all. He was about to lay down fully to either wait or to die, at this point it didn't matter which, but he heard something... Something that was not the groan or creak of metal or the tell-tale sound of something exploding.

Somebody, or something, was purposely banging on something, a loud, hollow sound that carried over to him. He reached for his pistol and shuffled back up, moving towards the sound. There were a few metal pillars sticking up around the apex of the mountain of debris, and he had to navigate around them to see the source of the noise, but as he neared, he was certain he heard breathing too. Breathing that was somehow more labored than his own.

And that's when he saw the hand, the bloody hand of a human, female judging by the shape and size of the wrist, covered in blood, banging a rock against one of the beams that had her pinned down. It didn't matter who it was. She was another survivor. Somebody he could focus on. Already his pain was nothing. He had somebody else to save. It was not until he was closer, about to open his mouth to speak that he saw the 'N7' on what was left of her breastplate... And his heart seemed to fall straight into his stomach.

"Shepard?" He bent forward, his hands reaching for her hair, pushing it out of her face. Her eyes, sharp and blue, stared up at him, and for a second neither of them moved. Or breathed. And then she was crying. Tears streaming down her blood soaked cheeks and her hand dropped the rock, shakily reaching up for him. He looked down at it, seeing not only blood but burns and he was almost afraid to touch her, afraid that he would hurt her, but as her eyes got wider, almost desperate, he couldn't help but reach out for it, holding it tight. Only then did her eyes close and she gave something that he might have called a smile. "Shepard, I'm... I'm going to try to get you out of here. I promise..." he breathed, looking her over. She still had bits of her armor that clung to her, but for the most part, he could see it had been destroyed either by the explosion or something else. And if not for the beam that lay across her legs, he might have been able to pull her up.

"Did we... Did it work...?"

Her voice didn't sound right. It was Shepard, but... every time he'd heard her before, it had sounded so strong. So sure. Even when she was shoulder deep in shit from the council and from everybody else, it never seemed like she was bogged down by it. But he could hear how broken she was now. Could hear the pain in her voice. The despair. He set his shoulders to the beam and braced his feet for leverage, attempting to push the beam. His grunt filled the air, a loud groan as the pain overwhelmed him and he sank down, taking her hand again. It hadn't even budged.

"B... Bailey...? Please... Answer me..."

"Would if I could, Commander. But... I don't know what you're asking me."

"The Reapers... Did we... we win? Are they... gone?"

He shrugged, looking back up at the Earth. "I don't know. All I know is that one moment the Citadel was in the Widow system... And now I'm looking at Russia. But, I guess seeing it means something good, right? The Earth isn't on fire... We're still here."

"Anderson... He's... He's dead... And the Illusive man... I... I destroyed..."

"Is that what that explosion was?" He looked back at her, shifting closer. "Shepard... I don't know that anybody else here survived... but we did. There's got to be a reason for that, right?"

"I'm... I'm dying..." she said, shaking her head.

"What? No. Don't say that. You're going to be all right. I'm going to get you out of here. You saved my ass more times than I can count, Commander. Now it's my turn to start returning that favor." He got up again.

"Please... Save... Save your own strength. I need... I need you to survive. I need you... to tell Hackett... what happened to Anderson. That... he was killed by the Illusive Man. To tell my crew what happened here. I... I need you... to tell Kaidan Alenko that I'm sorry."

"No," he growled. "I need you to survive. I've already been to one of your memorial services, Shepard. I'm not going to a second one. Do you hear me? You better dig deep down and figure out where to pull more strength from, Commander, but you aren't dying here. Not today." He braced himself against the beam and started to push, but before he put his body into it, he heard some static over his comm device and he stopped, putting his hand to his ear. The slight tilt of Shepard's head told him that she'd heard it, too.

Why the Hell hadn't he thought of that before. He went to his knees and started playing with the channels until he could hear somebody talking. "Hello? Hello, can you hear me? Hello?"

Silence at first, just feedback, but then somebody said, "This is Alliance Captain Jones of the Delaware. This is a secure channel. Identify yourself."

"I am Armando Bailey. Citadel Security. I'm with Commander Shepard of the SSV Normandy. We are both trapped on the Citadel and are requesting immediate aid. Medical attention will be-"

"Did you say Commander Shepard?"

"Yes, Captain. I found her. She is, so far, the only survivor I have found."

"Stay on the link, Bailey. We are getting a lock on your location..." Another pause and then, "Got it. We will be sending a rescue unit to you immediately. Remain on this channel. I will try to patch you through to Admiral Hackett."

"No rush on that, Captain. We aren't going anywhere..." he said almost cynically. He crawled forward, reaching for the comm device on Shepard's ear to set it to the proper channel so that she could hear, too. "Help is on the way, commander. The Delaware is sending a rescue team."

"Did... Did you ask...? Did you ask about the Reapers?"

"No... No, I didn't... But, you can. I set it so that you can speak with them. His name is Captain Jones."

She lifted her arm though it seemed she had some trouble bringing it to her ear. He reached to compress it for her. "Captain... Captain Jones... This... This is Commander Lucia... Lucia Shepard. What... What is the status... of the Reapers?"

It took a moment before anybody responded, but where she'd been expecting to hear a stranger's voice, she heard somebody far more familiar. His voice soft, edged with something she'd never heard before in his tone. "Commander Shepard. This is Admiral Hackett. Damned good to hear your voice again. We thought you were lost. I'm not sure what you did, but whatever you shot off at the Citadel worked. The Reapers are falling all over the Galaxy. You did it Commander. We've got teams heading to the Citadel now to extract you and Bailey. Fine work, Shepard."

"A... Anderson... He's..."

"I know. You told me. We'll discuss what happened later. Right now I just need you to stay where you are until the men from the Delaware arrive to get you."

"I'm... I'm in pretty bad... bad shape, sir. I don't... I don't think I'm going to... to make it..."

"Enough, soldier. I gave you an order. You will wait for extraction, and then I will personally debrief you after you receive medical care. And, Shepard... I expect you to be alive. That's not an option."

"Y-yes... Yes sir. Admiral... The Normandy... Any word from the crew?"

"None, commander. Only thirty percent of our fleet is accounted for. Many jumped through the mass relay before it was destroyed and with comm links disabled... it may be a few weeks before we've accounted for all of the fleet. But there's no reason yet to believe that the Normandy fell. I'm en route to Earth as we speak, Commander. I will meet you in Switzerland."

"S-Switzerland, sir?"

"It wasn't hit as hard by the Reapers and the hospital there is equipped to handle serious trauma. Captain Jones has already been instructed to take you there. And like I told you before, Commander... I expect you to be ready for a debrief. Hackett out."

"Sounds like a hard ass," Bailey said, after releasing the button. "But... got to respect him anyway. You heard him, though. Can't give up yet, Commander." He thought nothing of it when she didn't respond at first, but... she wasn't even moving. Or breathing. "Commander...? Shepard!" He shook her, but nothing. "Captain Jones! Hurry the hell up with that rescue team... We're losing her!"

He moved over her as best he could, tilted her chin up and felt for a pulse. Her heart was still beating, but slowly... faint. Leaning forward, he parted her lips and breathed into her mouth, over and over until he finally heard footsteps behind him. His instinct was to pull his pistol, but when they shouted that they were from the Delaware, he resumed doing what he was doing until one of them pulled him back and placed an oxygen mask around her.

"Come on, Bailey. We'll get you to the shuttle."

"No," he said, moving away from the soldier's outstretched hand. "I'm not getting into that shuttle without Commander Shepard."

"She's unresponsive," said the medic attending to her. "Cut the beam off. We've got to move her, now. Watson. Medi-gel. It won't do much, but it might buy us the time we need. Come on, Commander. We aren't losing you."

Bailey just watched helplessly as they attempted to resuscitate her. Taking a deep breath, he looked up at the sky, at Earth... and the pain... everything... it came rushing back. Shepard was dying. And he... he wasn't doing so well himself. He thought of his ex-wife... of his son and daughter... Of the family he neglected for his career... And for what? What had come of it? He felt something hot in his eyes, blurring his vision. Another breath, this one reminding him of how tight his chest felt... and then the edges of his vision darkened, closing in, and he was falling...

Nothing was the same. It would never be the same. Everything they worked so hard for... Gone in the blink of an eye. What was the point of waking up? What would they be waking up, too? The galaxy was different now. It no longer needed people like him. People like Shepard. Maybe it would be better for both of them if they just never woke up.


	2. Chapter 1: Everything About You

**Chapter 1: Everything About You**

It was a nice day as far as nice days went. It had stormed the day before and if you breathed deep, you could still smell the rain in the air. But the sun was out, casting a calming warmth over her face and there was a slight breeze that she savored with closed eyes and an upturned chin for as long as she was able. Relaxation these last few weeks had been hard to come by. Especially in this place... Slowly she lifted the mug to her lips, sipping the hot coffee, sweetened by cream and one packet of sugar. She normally preferred tea, but she'd made the last of it the night before. This would do.

She opened her eyes to the sound of birds singing, looking around as she tried to locate where they were. Little things like this... Before the Reapers, she had taken them for granted. Now she tried to enjoy them whenever she could. She tried to enjoy everything, really. Not that she was ever one to believe in the adage, 'live everyday like it could be your last.' She'd done that already. It was old news. But... she could live everyday like there was something new to be gained from it at least, and to take stock of what you already had. To be grateful for it. That was why she took moments like this for herself... It was also why she was so adamant about holding on to everybody that she had come to care for. Oriana, Jacob... and Shepard.

After the war, she'd been taken to trial. A formality, according to the military officials. She had viewed it as something of a betrayal. Not by Shepard but to her. She knew that if Lucia had not been laying in a comatose state, she would not have stood for it. But what could she do aside from run? Where would she run? She'd been so tired of hiding. So she faced it... Put her trust in humanity. She had fought so hard to save them, so she had decided to put her fate back in their hands. And they had come through... For the most part. While the acknowledged that her time with Cerberus was treasonous, they absolved her of any wrongdoing in light of the great service she performed for the sake of the preserving and protecting the citizens of the Systems Alliance and the Galaxy. It was more than she could have hoped for... but that had not been all. After her trial had ended, she was approached by Admiral Hackett and offered a position within the military in Research and Development. She accepted. What better place could she help to rebuild what was broken than in the Alliance where she had access to resources and funds?

She learned from a mutual friend that Shepard had woken up, and over the next few months, she kept in close contact. As best she could, anyway. Work was always keeping her busy. They were focusing on repairing so much of the destroyed technology. Oriana worked closely at her side, though she worked directly under a Turian who was in charge of the reconstruction of the Mass Relays. There were others who were working on other projects, such as rebuilding the Citadel and transporting it back into the Widow System. Miranda, for her part, was in charge of medical synthetics development. When the pulse was shot out from the Crucible, it was not just the Geth or AI that were adversely affected, though Miranda did not wish to compare the complete eradication of an entire synthetic species to what happened to organics who had synthetic implants. But it was what she was focused on. It was not so much a matter of research, but rebuilding. And it had taken over a year to finally catch up to the demands of the hospitals, so at last... she was given leave.

Visiting Shepard was unquestionably what she wanted to do. It had been so long, and while she'd been keeping track of her medical progress and corresponding with her over the extranet, it was not quite the same as a personal conversation. Conversations like they used to have. Only, it was clear when she first stepped into the apartment that the way things used to be were long since past. There was nothing there that spoke of the Shepard she knew before. It was a small apartment nestled in a quaint borough in London, but the fact that it was small did not mean that Miranda had expected anything less than immaculate. What she found instead was a space filled with refuse and clothing strewn about. A terrible odor emanated from the kitchen where it looked like the dishes had not been touched for a good month at least. Miranda walked forward slowly, wondering if perhaps she'd gotten the wrong apartment, but the bottles of medicine on the counter read 'SHEPARD, LUCIA.' Pain medications, empty bottles... and then one that was not marked or labeled. She twisted the cap off and peered inside, recognizing the capsule almost instantly. Hallex. And the bottle was nearly empty.

She had braced herself then, for the worst... But she had not expected to walk into Shepard's bedroom to find her sprawled on the floor between her bedroom and her bathroom in a pool of her own sick. All she remembered of that day was working with an almost mechanical precision. Lifting Shepard off the ground, pulling her with some difficulty into the tub to get her washed and cleaned. She checked her vitals with her omnitool and then helped her to bed. There'd been very little by way of conversation. Shepard had opened her eyes and spoken her name, but that was about all that was said until the following day.

Over coffee and tea, Miranda put the pieces together. She had known that Shepard's recovery had been difficult, but she had not realized just how difficult... Or how alone she was. It was that last part that startled her the most, and as the story was told to her from the lips of a weary and broken Commander, some of it clicked... and some of it made no sense at all. She masked her horror until she put her to bed that evening, and then quickly sent out a message to all of her former crew, telling them that she was in need of help. That she was in trouble. Surely they would come to her side. After everything she'd done for them... Regardless of how they parted ways. But... she was surprised once again when she only got two responses.

Kasumi was the first to arrive and then Jack. Any tension that Miranda felt with the woman formerly known as Subject Zero dissolved once she saw Shepard. There was anger, still. A lot of it. But none of it was directed at Lucia but rather at the people who had abandoned her. Shepard tried to tell her that they were right to leave, but it made no difference to any of them. "You're in more pain than any of us could comprehend," Miranda had said one night. "You're allowed to be a bitch."

She was allowed to be a lot of things... But there were limits. Even for Miranda.

The birds flew away and she watched them with a sort of sadness until she couldn't see them anymore. She rubbed the back of her neck and then turned, setting the mug down and pulling her thick, black hair into a loose ponytail, walking back into the bedroom to finish cleaning up. Between the three of them, they'd managed to make the space livable. At least Shepard would come back to something better. Right now, though, she was there by herself. Kasumi was at the facility getting updates on her condition. Miranda never asked how she got information that was deemed confidential, but she didn't doubt that she used her skills to acquire most of it. Jack had gone to the markets 'to barter' as she called it. Kept yelling at Miranda and Kasumi for spending too many credits to keep them all fed. And seeing as how she'd just left, she was quite sure that whoever had sounded the door was not Jack.

"Shepard?"

She'd already begun towards the bedroom door, but the sound of the voice made her pause. Tiny, almost hesitant. And thick with an accent. Miranda had to take a deep breath, and then another, to keep from bursting into the next room to demand an explanation. Once she was sure she would not have that reaction, or even one close to that, she stepped into the frame, her hand resting on the wall. "Tali," she said in an almost professional tone. "I was not expecting you." The Quarian might have been startled. It was hard to tell with the visor in the way. She'd heard that on Rannoch, they were getting to the point to where they could take them off more frequently, but she understood that it was still too soon to attempt that on other worlds.

"I received your message. You said that Shepard was in trouble. Where is she?" she asked, her voice short.

"I sent that message a month ago," Miranda said, trying to keep the accusation out of her voice, but she knew that she was failing miserably. "You never responded. But... I wouldn't feel too bad about that, Tali Zora vas Rannoch... That is how you say it, yes?" she questioned, crossing her arms defensively. "Not many of your friends responded either. Shepard told me that none of you would, but I was still surprised. I at least expected your boyfriend to write back."

Tali's fingers curled into her palm as she regarded the former Cerberus operative. "I did not respond because I was busy booking passage to get here. It is not as fast as it used to be. Not all of the Mass Relays are online. We had to take a roundabout route. As for Garrus... He's not written back to me in over a month either, but he said in the last message he wrote to me that it would be a while before he could be in contact again. You know better than I do the state of things on Palaven. I know that if he thought Shepard was in trouble, he would be here." His loyalty to her, in spite of everything that had happened since the fall of the Reapers, had been something of point of contention between them. She thought he was being oblivious to Shepard's self destructiveness and enabling her, and he thought she was just being jealous. "I did not come to explain myself to you," she said, waving her hand. "I came to see Shepard. To see that she's all right. If she's not here, I'll come back another time."

"I committed her to a treatment facility two weeks ago. You already know that she was addicted to Hallex. I assume that's one of the reasons you cut ties with her. So... she'll be going through detox under the care of trained professionals. She's also there because..." her voice broke and she looked away, her eyes going towards the window on the far side of the room. "Because I-"

"I got a real good deal on potatoes," Jack said as the door opened for her, her eyes looking into the brown bags that she carried in both arms. "The carrots were almost nothing... but beef is still expensive as tits and..." Her eyes locked on Tali and she dropped the bags onto the couch, narrowing her gaze. "The fuck is she doing here?" she asked, whirling around on Miranda.

"I'm here to help Shepard," Tali said angrily.

"Oh yeah? Is that what you're here to do? Where the fuck were you a year ago, princess? When she really needed the help? Of all people, I have to be contacted by the damned Cerberus cheerleader to be told she's in a sorry ass place and abandoned by her sorry ass friends.":

"You weren't there. You don't know what happened!" she said, taking a step towards her.

"You're going to want to back off, bitch, before I make you..." Jack said, her fist flaring with blue light.

"Enough, both of you," Miranda snapped, stepping between them. "We are not here to hash out who did what. We are here for Shepard, and I think for now we can put our differences aside so that we can do for her what she would have done for any one of us."

"Wouldn't count on it," Jack said, gritting her teeth. "Probably just come here to rub it in her face. You were right, she was wrong? Well, don't waste your breath, sweetheart. She already knows that. And she knows that she pissed all of you off... Beyond forgiveness is what she says. Not sure how you can justify that but... whatever. All I know is that I know exactly who to blame for what she did to herself."

If ever Tali wanted to punch somebody in the face, she forgot about it in this moment because she'd never felt such a strong urge to cause pain to a person than she did with Jack. "I'm not sure what Shepard told you, but it's like Miranda said... It's not important right now. Miranda, what did she do to herself? What was the other reason?"

Jack looked between them, cursed, and then backed away, grabbing the bags to carry them over to the kitchen counter. Miranda watched her for a few seconds and then turned to face Tali. "Two weeks ago, I went to check on her. She was taking a bath and... I found her... The water was..." She shook her head, reminding herself to distance... She cleared her throat and looked back at her, standing straighter. "She had attempted suicide by making two lateral incisions on each of her wrists. My regular checks did not allow for much time for too much blood loss, but even though medically she was fine and only in need of minor attention to treat the wounds, the intention was clear enough. I had her committed that night and she was put on watch."

Tali took all of that in, her lips parting, but neither of them would know that either. Slowly she turned away from them and collapsed into the armchair, leaning forward with her elbows on her knees. "I... I don't understand. Why...? Why would she do that? After everything that...? I just don't understand..."

"That's part of the problem," Miranda started.

"Did you even try to understand?" Jack asked from the kitchen.

"Of course I tried. We all tried!" Tali insisted. "She wouldn't let us close. She kept pushing us away. There's only so much you can do when somebody is breaking themselves down in front of you. How could I have sat and watched this woman, this woman I loved and respected, to become something else."

"Sad story, sweetie," Jack said drolly. "Must have been real hard for you. Ever try to look at it from her side?"

"Don't talk about things you know nothing about. I stayed for as long as I could. She told me to leave. She ordered me out. I'm only guilty of listening to her."

"If that helps you sleep at night..."

"Well, this isn't getting us anywhere," came a new voice. The three of them turned towards the bedroom door where Kasumi was standing, shaking her head. "Sorry... I saw Tali enter and didn't want to interrupt. So, I came in to hear what she had to say..." She was sure by now Miranda and Jack were used to it, but Tali had sat a bit more rigid, so she offered the explanation for her sake. "I just got back from the facility. They are planning on releasing her in two days. But... from what I saw... She's not ready."

"What's your opinion?" Miranda asked as she walked around the couch.

"She's in a better place physically. The drugs are out of her system and she'll have to submit to periodic checks as per Alliance orders. But mentally, I do not think they understand the gravity of her suffering. She needs psychiatric help. It is like they are afraid to admit that their paragon of what is good about the Alliance is still battling with what happened at the Crucible."

"Not to mention they are not giving her an alternative for coping with the pain. Don't they see...? She's not turning to drugs because she's dependant. It's because it's the only thing that helps her manage..."

"They just want it over and done," Jack said. "Swept under the rug. Basically get her act together so they don't have to deal with it. Sort of like what her friends did to her, too..."

"Keelah, I swear if you don't shut up I will..."

"Will what? Hurt me...? I dare you to try it."

"Regardless of how you feel, Jack, your accusations aren't helping," Miranda said.

"Yeah? Well, they aren't hurting either. And I'm only telling the truth."

"Shut up... All of you," Kasumi said. "I'm thinking..." She put a hand to her lips, her jaw clenching as the cogs in her head spun almost wildly. "If only that facility had somebody like Doctor Chakwas. They would see that they can't just detox her and hope for the best. She needs constant evaluation. Somebody to monitor her progress. To help her cope."

"There's... no chance that the pain will... I don't know..." Tali trailed off, looking away from all three of them. It was difficult to imagine that Shepard was always going to be in pain. That she was never going to be the soldier that she'd been before.

"Aside from the serious injuries she suffered during the explosion, a lot of the synthetic implants that were used to help revive her during the Lazarus Project have been nullified. She would have to undergo countless more surgeries to replace all of them... Some of them would be considered life endangering. It was easier to perform the implants when she was already dead... but she's a living patient now. It's a different matter entirely."

"But... not impossible?" Jack asked, leaning forward over the counter.

"No... Not in theory... But... again... Don't you think Shepard has been cut up enough?"

"If she thought even for a second that more surgeries would help her become the person she used to be, she would demand it. And you know it."

"I know... That's why I haven't mentioned it..."

"How long... hypothetically speaking... would it take to make the necessary replacements?" Kasumi asked.

"Well... I know that they have already replaced the apparatus on her heart and her lungs. The two in her lower lumbar region as well, but those were the only ones deemed necessary for survival outside of a controlled environment. It would be difficult for a hospital to acquire all the necessary components for just one patient... And expensive. But... assuming that you had everything you needed... You could safely operate on Shepard and make the necessary replacements within one Earth cycle."

Tali lifted her hand to touch her cheek, her fingers grazing the purple visor. Sometimes she forgot... She'd taken it off so many times on Rannoch. It would be a nice change to be able to go to other systems and not have to rely on the suit. But it kept her alive. Well. Just like the Synthetic implants did for Shepard... She supposed the best way to compare it would be if somebody had taken her suit away from her too soon. When she wasn't ready. "I never realized..." Tali began, ignoring Jack who had been about to interrupt until Miranda held her hand up to stop her.

"None of us did," Kasumi said. "If we're all being honest with ourselves, the guilt is something that is to be shared. We may be here no, but where were we when Shepard was going through the worst of it? Miranda was working, Jack was at the Academy, and I was helping on the Citadel. We all went back to our lives, and when Shepard didn't... Well... It doesn't matter what happened between the two of you in the past, Tali. What matters is that you came back. You're here now. So, let us stop pointing fingers and blaming everybody else. There's enough to worry about without adding to it."

Tali stood up. "Are... Are we really the only ones who came back."

Miranda nodded. "It's... likely that you are right about Garrus. I'm sure he'd be here if he knew... I'll send another message."

"So will I," Tali said with a firm nod.

"Liara... I don't even know where she is, but I sent her the same message. I am certain she's got access to a private terminal... Wrex I didn't expect much from. He's... got the clans to deal with. And Kaidan... Well..." Miranda looked away. They all did because each of them knew that if any of them had a reason to walk away from Shepard, it had been Kaidan.


	3. Chapter 2: Beneath the Surface

**Chapter 2: Beneath the Surface**

"Really, Miranda... This isn't necessary," Lucia said as she shuffled to the edge of the bed, her hand on her wrist, rubbing the bandages that hid her scars. Or rather, the newest set. She figured in a few weeks they would fade and blend in with the rest of them and nobody would be the wiser. There was still some confusion about that night. She remembered taking her medication. She remembered getting into the bathtub. She did not remember much after that. There'd been wine. She knew that... but... she could not recall grabbing for the blade and she definitely did not remember pressing it into her skin. It was something she'd been sure to tell the doctors. That she was depressed, sure, but suicidal? She didn't think she was that... Maybe she was wrong? There were a lot of times when she just... blacked out. She supposed it was from the drugs. The Hallex or, Hell, maybe even the painkillers made her mind go numb.

"It's more necessary than you think, Shepard. The press has been having a field day since they found out you were admitted."

"It wasn't my choice," she pointed out. "If it were up to me, we'd have just slapped some medi-gel onto my wrists, tucked me in, and called it a night."

Miranda gave her a near scathing look. "Fortunately, it wasn't up to you. Kasumi will let me know when she's here. Then we can go. Do not stop to answer question, Shepard. Not even if it's that woman you can't help but punch every time she tries to interview you."

"Yeah, yeah... I know. Squeaky clean image for the bosses up top." She stood up and winced, limping towards the window to see if Miranda was maybe exaggerating, but from where her room is, she couldn't see the front entrance. It was blocked by the mezzanine.

"This is serious. You could have had to face a dishonorable discharge."

"Then who would have a shit load of bad press to clean up?" she countered. "Discharging the Hero of the Citadel and the woman who fired the final shot against the Reapers. I'm not saying that they would not be right to have done that. It'd be a Hell of a lot less insulting than what I am right now." She was still Commander Shepard of the Alliance Navy... but it was more a surface title than anything. A consolation. She had not returned to active duty yet. She couldn't. By all rights, they should have medically discharged her. Sure, she would have been pissed. But she would have understood all the same. It was like they were convinced she would be the way she used to be again. They were kidding themselves. She couldn't even climb a flight of stairs without losing her breath these days. Nevermind taking down a building full of mercs. "I'm just saying that they won't."

"Is that what this is? You're forcing their hand?"

"I told you, Miranda... I didn't try to kill myself."

"Then what were you trying to do, Shepard? Explain those," she demanded, pointing at her bandages.

"I can't," she fumed, reaching for her hoodie to pull over her head, glad that the sleeves would hide the evidence of what she'd done. "I am tired of explaining myself. Trying to defend myself. I wasn't all there that night. I don't know what happened. But, I don't want to die, Miranda. I don't exactly want to live either, but I'm not a quitter. It's not my style. If I really wanted to get myself killed, you know I'd make it a Hell of alot more interesting than bleeding out in a bathtub."

"I... shouldn't believe that... but I do..." she said, shaking her head. A beep sounded and she looked down at her waist. It was still strange for Shepard to see her in anything but a skin tight Cerberus uniform, but she still seemed to fill out civilian clothes rather well. A simple white tank, faded jeans and black, knee high boots and she still looked like she'd just stepped off the runway at a fashion show. Shepard wasn't exactly one who'd ever been vain about her appearance, but she was still a woman. To deny that she was at least a little jealous would be quite the lie. "She's here," Miranda said, making Shepard's eyes shoot up.

"Sorry," she breathed. "I was busy looking at your chest." She laughed as Miranda rolled her eyes. "Hey, if you don't want people to look, you should cover them up better. I'm not even into women, and I can't take my eyes away."

"Get moving, Shepard," she said, her voice bordering on exasperation. "We'll talk about about labels and negative stereotypes in the sky car..."

"Pass..." she laughed, clapping her on the shoulder as she made her way into the corridor. It was a slow process. Her leg still felt alien to her, her knee never seemed to line up right. Thus the limping. Not to mention that her spine kept pressing up on the nerve that shot into her other leg which made her feel like she'd been trying to bench press a Krogan. With somewhat of a forced smile, she bid farewell to the nurses who had attended her and then braced herself. A deep breath. Her heart was racing, her fingers were already starting to tremble. She shoved them into her pockets and turned slowly, straightening her back. Clenching her jaw she strode towards the front doors, towards the flashing lights. Narrow. Tall. Walking without a limp, her brow set, her eyes forward.

Miranda walked in front of her, careful not to look too concerned. She'd seen it before whenever Shepard had been on the news vids. She never showed how much pain she was in. How injured she still was. There were things she couldn't hide, of course. The scars on the side of her face and down her neck. But everything else... The press attempted to swarm but were held back by the hospital's security and Miranda hurried her into the car, closing the door before they could get too many pictures of her.

"Everybody settled?" Kasumi asked with a smile.

"Just drive..." Shepard begged, her face red now, her breaths coming quickly.

"Whatever you say, Shep."

Even though it was a quick drive to the apartment, Lucia fell asleep, her dreams as troubled as ever. She went back there every night. To the top of that mountain of twisted steel and broken rock. She heard his voice. Anderson's voice. Then Bailey's. The thoughts were always the same. She knew she was locked in a dream. That she wasn't there, but that did not make the fear abate. Or the anger. She was aware in her sleep what she hadn't known then. That her leg was separated from the rest of her, a fact that had not come to light until they'd cut the beam off. But now... she screamed it. Begged Bailey to leave the beam where it was. To not let anybody see the broken soldier she would become. She was aware that her back was broken in two places. That her left arm was crushed, her pinky and pointer severed completely. Her other hand was burned and where the armor still remained it had melded to her skin, burned her.

"Shepard?" She shook, opening her eyes slowly, seeing the sapphire of Miranda's and for a moment, she hated them. She had wanted them to be a different color. A honey-brown. Almost gold. She missed those eyes. She missed him. "You were talking in your sleep."

"Shit..." she yawned. "I... didn't say anything embarrassing, did I?"

"Just, 'Leave me, Leave me. Don't save me.'" Kasumi said, trying to imitate her voice. "Troubling, but not embarrassing. Come on, Shep. We're home."

"That's a relative term..."

"Well aren't you a ray of sunshine?" she said, getting out of the car to grab her bag. Miranda stepped to the other side, opening the door for Shepard and holding her hand out in case she needed it. But Lucia never reached for it. Even with all of her injuries, she never accepted help when she could avoid it. Some things never changed.

Then again... some things did. When the door opened and they stepped into a clean apartment, Shepard froze, looking around as if they'd gone into the wrong place. She felt a bit of annoyance. Where was everything? Did they just throw things away? But... it faded soon enough into gratitude. She wasn't completely a bitch. Just mostly... She gave Jack a small smile, but the biotic was looking across the room at somebody else, her posture rigid. Lucia followed her gaze and felt her heart jump straight into her throat.

Tali stood up, her fingers twirling in front of her, twining with one another. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt so anxious. Their parting words had been less than friendly. More than hateful. It ended with the two of them throwing whatever they could grab first at one another. A picture frame had hit Shepard's cheek, a vase had hit Tali's visor, cracking it. It ended with Kaidan and Garrus having to step in the middle, both forcibly having to pull them away from one another. She remembered it as though it were yesterday, and her fear was that Shepard did, too. That she would demand she leave and never come back. Just like she'd demanded then.

What happened instead had tears rushing from her eyes. Shepard moved after a moment, trying to run, but her leg wouldn't let her move any quicker than a fast walk. So Tali closed the distance, going around the couch. The two women embraced, soft sobs racking the Quarian's shoulders. Of course she was crying. A part of her knew that she would no matter how this played out. What she had not expected was for Shepard to be crying, too. She heard the shakiness of her breaths, felt how her body trembled in her arms. It broke Tali's heart. "Shepard..." she said softly. "I... I should have come sooner. I'm so sorry. So, so sorry."

Shepard parted only enough to look into Tali's visor, seeing the faint glow of her eyes through it. She smiled even through her tears and reached her hand up to touch the side of her face. "It is my fault that you didn't. I'm just glad that you're here now. I didn't think... I was sure that I'd never see you again. How...?"

"I got a message from Miranda. She's a good friend to you, Shepard. She told me that you were in some sort of trouble."

"I..." She turned to look at her, seeing the uncertainty in Miranda's eyes. A part of her wanted to get mad at her for spreading her business. But... that was an old habit. She'd always valued her privacy. But in this...? Could she really hold it against her? Miranda did not always do things the way Shepard would prefer, but... she always had good intentions. "I didn't think that I was," she said, looking down. "Part of me still doesn't believe it. But... maybe I'm wrong. Tali... I..." She caught herself before she said anymore. Not because she didn't trust Tali with her feelings, but because it was still difficult to talk about them. She wasn't sure how.

"I know, Shepard," she said, lifting her hand to touch hers. "We're here for you. We'll figure it out together. This time, I'm not leaving. Not even if you throw everything in this room at me. Just... try not to puncture my suit this time. I had to undergo two weeks worth of antibiotics and I still got a cold."

"Yeah..." she said, rubbing the back of her neck. "About that..."

"It's over. What is it that you humans say? Something about water and bridges?"

"How wonderful," Kasumi said behind them, clasping her hands together. "And here you were worried. I told you it'd be fine," she said, grinning knowingly at Tali. "Now... Shepard... I know that you're going to argue, but you keep putting more and more weight on your good leg. You really should sit down."

"Wait... I have a good leg?" she asked, parting from Tali to collapse onto the couch. "Could somebody double check on that, because I'm pretty sure they're both terrible." She lifted her feet onto the couch, stretching her legs out with a bit of a groan. "Almost tempted to try to get four billiion credits just to have my body rebuilt all over again. Maybe I could just settled for one billion and see if that covers my lower half..."

"Is that a hint?" Miranda asked from the kitchen, helping to wash the vegetables that Jack had laid out. It really was interesting watching how domestic the tattooed woman had turned out to be.

"Would it make a difference?"

Jack lifted a brow and gave Miranda a look, almost as if issuing a challenge.

"Shepard..." Miranda said, not looking away from her. "What if I told you that it would?"

~.~.~.~

It was becoming harder to find moments for himself these days. Rescue missions were on the rise, distress beacons going off more than frequently. He and his crew had been assigned to the Terminus systems. Mostly because of the rapport they'd built over the last few years. Not that it made much of a difference to him. They termed it the Undesirable Sector. The part of the Galaxy no Alliance Serviceman wanted to be assigned to. Despite the goodwill won during the war, there was still a lot of distrust. Especially among the Batarians. Still... he could not deny that when they saw Normandy written on the side of their ship, things tended to go a bit smoother.

"Well... it could have gone worse, general?" Vega said as they walked out of Afterlife.

"Yeah. But it could have gone a lot better, too."

"Don't sweat it. Aria's always been a bit of a bitch to deal with. Don't know why, but the only person I've ever known to deal smoothly with her is... I mean... you know..."

Kaidan glanced at him from the corner of his eyes but then gave a nod. "I know. She had a way with people."

"You know... that's probably what it is... Why she doesn't like you so much. She knows the two of you were... That you had a past. Maybe Shepard told her something? Maybe she's just more loyal than she's letting on."

"Or maybe she just doesn't like me..." Kaidan said through his teeth.

"That's... also possible, general. But... why wouldn't she? You're just so easy to like..." He grinned at the glare Kaidan gave him. "All right, all right. I get it... Not in the mood. Hey, maybe when we get back to the Normandy, we can get the guys together for a game of poker."

"Not happening, Lieutenant. My pockets are still dry from the last game..."

"_And in other news, Commander Shepard, Hero of Reaper Wars, was just released from The Gregorian Rehabilitation Hospital._" Both James and Kaidan stopped to look up at the vid, though something inside of him told him to keep walking. To stop caring. But he didn't move. He just watched as they showed her walking out of the doors of the facility towards a skycar... Escorted by Miranda. "_No word at this time as to why she was admitted, but a spokesperson for the hospital did tell us that Commander Lucia Shepard is in good health and voluntarily admitted herself as a precaution._" Right... Lucia voluntarily walking into a hospital let alone admitting herself... That was never going to happen...

"She looks... better?" Vega said, looking away from the vid.

"No... No, she's covering it up," Kaidan said without meaning to. "She's hiding it. You can tell by how her shoulders are set... And her legs are stiff. No... She's... She's not better." He tore his eyes away and started walking again.

"Regrets, General?" he asked as they waited for the decontamination door to open.

"You know better than to ask that..."

"If it makes you feel any better... they never would have given us shore leave to answer the message anyway. But, at least that woman's with her. Miranda, right? I'm so bad with names. She looks more like a Vanessa anyway."

Kaidan opened his mouth to say something, but... it would not have been nice. And he promised himself that he wouldn't tell anybody. That it would stay between the three of them. He might be angry for what she did. Furious, even after so many months of distance. But he wasn't about to go around making her look bad to the people who had followed her into Hell. "Talk about something else, Vega. Or don't say anything..." Thankfully he opted for silence, but it wasn't much better. That meant that there was nothing to listen to except for his own thoughts which were warring in his mind. Even now, after everything, it was the hardest thing to keep from taking the Normandy and setting a course for Earth.


End file.
